Tomorrow We Dance To Freedom

Live to See the Dawn of a Brighter Sunrise

Posted on:

Shuffling in from the desolate west on a long deserted road was a former worker, now a scarecrow with thin spindly arms and legs that drifted along the pavement in a dejected movement. He listlessly looked at the town that was crumbling into a gigantic sink hole. Most of the ground had caved-in, the result of Fracking that had long ago left a vast catacomb devoid of dirt, water, and air – just absolute emptiness. Only the legally required “Employment Banned List” screen oscillating like a light flickering just before it burns dark was scrolling the alphabetical names of those who were forbidden work – his name was dancing with the others.

Speaking out, daily using his mind was his criminal act. Cataloging the power brokers dirty deeds, braking down the carefully erected fantasies – these were actions that demanded the final solution – labor excommunication. Mindless acceptance, allowing the oligarchic governmental/business leach to obliterate an entire planet was the short-term payoff he’d refused to pocket.

Born with an insightful, inquisitive wild intellect he wasn’t predisposed to inactivity. Also, the challenge of awakening a world from their numb stupor was just the type of impossible mission that required an untamed mind. Instead of sinking the injustice deep in his subconscious he instead confronted the oligarchic dynasty head on – a flaming meteor searing light through darkness.

Others followed. They were also on the “Banned List”.

Cages had been erected outside the towns. Inside could be found those who’d been caught before the “Great Fall”. Now just skeletons were all that was left of these ‘malcontents’. He was lucky; his cage had been opened by a young lady who was now transforming the cold evil into a warm goodness. Many more were fully engaged in reclaiming a lost generation.

Now was not the time to confront painful memories that is why the tired like to immerse themselves in blissful recollections. Knowing that he’d been an inspiration to a spirited tightly knit not easily manipulated younger generation was worth all the pain.

Better move on to the next village. Maybe that abandoned factory off in the distance with the towering crane precariously swinging half-bent in the dirty wind will have a cafeteria that hasn’t been cleaned out. Just a couple of cans of food will help him last a few more days. Maybe he’ll live to see the dawn of a brighter sunrise.